But I still have to do my duty, to smile and shake their hands and thank them for their brave service. Each word tastes bitter, until I have to duck away from the crowd to an alcove half hidden by plants. The noise of the crowd still rises with the midday sun, but I can breathe again. For a second, at least.
“Everything okay?”
Cal stands over me, looking worried but strangely relaxed. He likes being around soldiers; I suppose it’s his natural habitat.
Even though I want to disappear, my spine straightens. “I’m not a fan of beauty pageants.”
He frowns. “Mare, they’re going to the front. I’d think you of all people would want to give them a proper send-off.”
The laugh escapes me like gunfire. “What part of my life makes you think I’d care about these brats going off to war like it’s some kind of vacation?”
“Just because they’ve chosen to go doesn’t make them any less brave.”
“Well, I hope they enjoy their barracks and supplies and reprieves and all the things my brothers were never given.” I doubt these willing soldiers will ever want for so much as a button.
Even though he looks like he wants to yell at me, Cal swallows the urge. Now that I know what his temper is capable of, I’m surprised he can keep himself in check at all.
“This is the first completely Silver legion going into the trenches,” he says evenly. “They’re going to fight with the Reds, dressed as Reds, serving with Reds. The Lakelanders won’t know who they are when they get to the Choke. And when the bombs fall, when the enemy tries to break the line, they’re going to get more than they bargained for. The Shadow Legion will take them all.”
Suddenly I feel hot and cold at the same time. “Original.”
But Cal doesn’t gloat. Instead, he looks sad. “You gave me the idea.”
“What?”
“When you fell into Queenstrial, no one knew what to do. I’m sure the Lakelanders will feel the same.”
Though I try to speak, no sound comes out. I’ve never been a point of inspiration for anything, let alone combat maneuvers. Cal stares at me like he wants to say more, but he doesn’t speak. Neither of us knows what to say.
A boy from our Training, the windweaver Oliver, claps a hand on Cal’s shoulder while the other clutches a sloshing drink. He wears a uniform too. He’s going to fight.
“What’s with the hiding, Cal?” He chuckles, gesturing to the crowd around us. “Next to the Lakelanders, this bunch will be easy!”
Cal meets my eyes, a silver blush tingeing his cheeks. “I’ll take the Lakelanders any day,” he replies, his eyes never leaving mine.
“You’re going with them?”
Oliver answers for Cal, smiling much too wide for a boy going off to war. “Going?” he says. “Cal’s leading us! His own legion, all the way to the front.”
Slowly, Cal shifts out of Oliver’s grip. The drunk windweaver doesn’t seem to notice and keeps babbling. “He’ll be the youngest general in history, and the first prince to fight on the lines.”
And the first to die, a morose voice in my head whispers. Against my better instincts, I reach out to Cal. He doesn’t pull away from me, allowing me to hold his arm. Now he doesn’t look like a prince or a general or even a Silver, but that boy at the bar, the one who wanted to save me.
My voice is small but strong. “When?”
“When you leave for the capital, after the ball. You’ll go south,” he murmurs, “and I’ll go north.”
A cold shock of fear ripples through me, like when Kilorn first told me he was going to fight. But Kilorn is a fisher boy, a thief, someone who knows how to survive, how to slip through the cracks; not like Cal. He’s a soldier. He’ll die if he has to. He’ll bleed for his war. And why this frightens me, I don’t know. Why I care, I can’t say.
“With Cal on the lines, this war will finally be over. With Cal, we can win,” Oliver says, grinning like a fool. Again, he takes Cal by the shoulder, but this time he steers him away, back toward the party—leaving me behind.
Someone presses a cold drink into my hand and I down it in a single gulp.
“Easy there,” Maven mutters. “Still thinking about this morning? No one saw your face, I checked with the Sentinels.”
But that’s the farthest thing from my mind as I watch Cal shake hands with his father. He pastes a magnificent smile on his face, donning a mask only I can see through.
Maven follows my gaze, and my thoughts. “He wanted to do this. It was his choice.”
“That doesn’t mean we have to like it.”
“My son the general!” King Tiberias booms, his proud voice cutting through the din of the party. For a second, when he pulls Cal close, putting an arm around his son, I forget he’s a king. I almost understand Cal’s need to please him.
What would I give to see my mother look at me like that, back when I was nothing but a thief? What would I give now?
This world is Silver, but it is also gray. There is no black-and-white.
When someone knocks at my door that night, long after dinner, I’m expecting Walsh and another cup of secret-message tea, but Cal stands there instead. Without his uniform or armor, he looks like the boy he is. Barely nineteen, on the edge of doom or greatness or both.
I shrink in my pajamas, wishing very much for a robe. “Cal? What do you need?”
He shrugs, smirking a little bit. “Evangeline almost killed you in the ring today.”
“So?”
“So I don’t want her to kill you on the dance floor.”
“Did I miss something? Are we going to be fighting at the ball?”
He laughs, leaning against the doorframe. But his feet never enter my room, like he can’t. Or he shouldn’t. You’re going to be his brother’s wife. And he’s going to war.
“If you know how to dance properly, you won’t have to.”
I remember mentioning how I can’t dance for my life, let alone under Blonos’s terrible direction, but how can Cal help me here? And why would he want to?
“I’m a surprisingly good teacher,” he adds, smiling crookedly. When he stretches out a hand to me, my body shivers.
I know I shouldn’t. I know I should shut the door and not go down this road.
But he’s leaving to fight, maybe to die.
Shaking, I put my hand in his and let him pull me out of my room.
UNCORRECTED E-PROOF—NOT FOR SALE
HarperCollins Publishers
..................................................................
EIGHTEEN
Moonlight falls on the floor, bright enough for us to see by. In the silvery light, the red blush in my skin is barely visible—I look the same as a Silver. Chairs scrape along the wood floor as Cal rearranges the sitting room, clearing space for us to practice. The chamber is secluded, but the hum of cameras is never far away. Elara’s men are watching, but no one comes to stop us. Or rather, to stop Cal.
He pulls a strange device, a little box, out of his jacket and sets it in the middle of the floor. He stares at it expectantly, waiting for something.
“Can that thing teach me how to dance?”
He shakes his head, still smiling. “No, but it’ll help.”
Suddenly, a pulsing beat explodes from the box, and I realize it’s a speaker, like the ones in the arena back home. Only this is for music, not battle. Life, not death.
The melody is light and quick, like a heartbeat. Across from me, Cal smiles wider, and his foot taps in time. I can’t resist, my own toes wiggling with the music. It’s so bouncy and upbeat, not at all like the cold, metallic music of Blonos’s classroom or the sorrowful songs of home. My feet slide along, trying to remember the steps Lady Blonos taught me.
“Don’t worry about that, just keep moving.” Cal laughs. A drumbeat trills over the music and he spins, humming along. For the first time, he looks like he doesn’t have the weight of a throne on his shoulders.
I feel it too as my fears and worries lift,
if only for a few minutes. This is a different kind of freedom, like flying along on Cal’s cycle.
Cal’s much better at this than me, but he still looks like a fool; I can only imagine how idiotic I must appear. Still, I’m sad when the song ends. As the notes fade away into the air, it feels like I’m falling back to reality. Cold understanding creeps through me; I shouldn’t be here.
“This probably isn’t the best idea, Cal.”
He cocks his head, pleasantly confused. “Why’s that?”
He’s really going to make me say it. “I’m not even supposed to be alone with Maven.” I stumble over the words, feeling myself flush. “I don’t know if dancing with you in a dark room is exactly okay.”
Instead of arguing, Cal just laughs and shrugs. Another song, slower with a haunting tune, fills the room. “The way I see it, I’m doing my brother a favor.” Then he grins crookedly. “Unless you want to step on his feet all night?”
“I have excellent footing, thank you very much,” I say, crossing my arms.
Slowly, softly, he takes my hand. “Maybe in the ring,” he says. “The dance floor, not so much.” I look down to watch his feet, moving in time with the music. He pulls me along, forcing me to follow, and, despite my best efforts, I stumble against him.
He smiles, happy to prove me wrong. He’s a soldier at heart, and soldiers like to win. “This is the same timing as most of the songs you’ll hear at the ball. It’s a simple dance, easy to learn.”
“I’ll find some way to mess it up,” I grumble, allowing him to push me around the floor. Our feet trace a rough box and I try not to think about his closeness, or the calluses of his hands. To my surprise, they feel like mine: rough with years of work.
“You might,” he murmurs, all his laughter gone.
I’m used to Cal being taller than me, but he seems smaller tonight. Maybe it’s the darkness, or maybe it’s the dance. He seems like he did when I first met him; not a prince, but a person.
His eyes linger on my face, tracing over where my wound was. “Maven fixed you up nicely.” There’s an odd bitterness to his voice.
“It was Julian. Julian and Sara Skonos.” Though Cal doesn’t react as strongly as Maven did, his jaw tightens all the same. “Why don’t you two like her?”
“Maven has his reasons, good reasons,” he mumbles. “But it’s not my story to tell. And I don’t dislike Sara. I just don’t—I don’t like thinking about her.”
“Why? What’s she done to you?”
“Not to me,” he sighs. “She grew up with Julian, and my mother.” His voice drops at the mention of his mom. “She was her best friend. And when she died, Sara didn’t know how to grieve. Julian was a wreck, but Sara . . .” He trails off, wondering how to continue. Our steps slow until we stop, frozen as the music echoes around us.
“I don’t remember my mother,” he says sharply, trying to explain himself. “I wasn’t even a year old when she died. I only know what my father tells me, and Julian. And neither of them like to talk about her at all.”
“I’m sure Sara could tell you about her, if they were best friends.”
“Sara Skonos can’t speak, Mare.”
“At all?”
Cal continues slowly, in the level, calm voice his father uses. “She said things she shouldn’t have, terrible lies, and she was punished for it.”
Horror bleeds through me. Can’t speak. “What did she say?”
In a single heartbeat, Cal goes cold under my fingers. He draws back, stepping out of my arms as the music finally dies. With quick motions, he pockets the speaker, and there is nothing but our beating hearts to fill the silence.
“I don’t want to talk about her anymore.” He breathes heavily. His eyes seem oddly bright, flickering between me and the windows full of moonlight.
Something twists in my heart; the pain in his voice hurts me. “Okay.”
With quick, deliberate steps, he moves toward the door like he’s trying very hard not to run. But when he turns back around and faces me across the room, he looks the same as usual—calm, collected, detached.
“Practice your steps,” he says, sounding very much like Lady Blonos. “Same time tomorrow.” And then he’s gone, leaving me alone in a room full of echoes.
“What the hell am I doing?” I mutter to no one but myself.
I’m halfway to my bed before I realize something is very wrong with my room: the cameras are off. Not a single one hums at me, seeing with electric eyes, recording everything I do. But unlike the outage before, everything else around me still buzzes along. Electricity still pulses through the walls, to every room but mine.
Farley.
But instead of the revolutionary, Maven steps out of the darkness. He throws aside the curtains, letting in enough moonlight to see by.
“Late-night walk?” he says with a bitter smile.
My mouth falls open, struggling for words. “You know you’re not supposed to be in here.” I force a smile, hoping to calm myself. “Lady Blonos will be scandalized. She’ll punish us both.”
“Mother’s men owe me a favor or two,” he says, pointing to where the cameras are hidden. “Blonos won’t have evidence to convict.”
Somehow that doesn’t comfort me. Instead, I feel shivers run over my skin. Not in fear though, but anticipation. The shivers deepen, electrifying my nerves like my lightning as Maven takes measured steps toward me.
He watches me blush with what looks like satisfaction. “Sometimes I forget,” he murmurs, letting a hand touch my cheek. It lingers, like he can feel the color that pulses in my veins. “I wish they wouldn’t have to paint you up every day.”
My skin buzzes under his fingers, but I try to ignore it. “That makes two of us.”
His lips twist, trying to form a smile, but it just won’t come.
“What’s wrong?”
“Farley made contact again.” He draws back, shoving his hands into his pockets to hide trembling fingers. “You weren’t here.”
Just my luck. “What did she say?”
Maven shrugs. He walks to the window, staring out at the night sky. “She spent most of her time asking questions.”
Targets. She must’ve pressed him again, asking for information Maven didn’t want to give. I can tell by the droop of his shoulders, the tremor in his voice, that he said more than he wanted to. A lot more.
“Who?” My mind flies to the many Silvers I’ve met here, the ones who have been kind to me, in their own way. Would any of them be a sacrifice to her revolution? Who would be marked?
“Maven, who did you give up?”
He spins around, a ferocity I’ve never seen flashing in his eyes. For a second, I’m afraid he might burst into flames. “I didn’t want to do it, but she’s right. We can’t sit still, we have to act. And if that means I’m going to give her people, I’m going to do it. I won’t like it, but I will. And I have.”
Like Cal, he draws a shaky breath in an attempt to calm himself. “I sit on councils with my father, for taxes and security and defense. I know who will be missed by my—by the Silvers. I gave her four names.”
“Who?”
“Reynald Iral. Ptolemus Samos. Ellyn Macanthos. Belicos Lerolan.”
A sigh escapes me, before I feel myself nod. These deaths will not be hidden. Evangeline’s brother, the colonel—they will be missed indeed. “Colonel Macanthos knew your mother was lying. She knows about the other attacks—”
“She commands a half legion and heads the war council. Without her, the front will be a mess for months.”
“The front?” Cal. His legion.
Maven nods. “My father will not send his heir to war after this. An attack so close to home, I doubt he’ll even let him out of sight of the capital.”
So her death will save Cal. And help the Guard.
Shade died for this. His cause is mine now.
“Two birds with one stone,” I breathe, feeling hot tears threaten to fall. As difficult as this might be, I’ll trade he
r life for Cal’s. I’ll do it a thousand times.
“Your friend’s part of this too.”
My knees shake, but I manage to keep myself upright. I alternate between anger and fear as Maven explains the plan with a heavy, hardened heart.
“And what if we fail?” I ask when he finishes, finally speaking aloud the words he’s been skirting around.
He barely shakes his head. “That won’t happen.”
“But what if we do?” I’m not a prince, my life has not been charming. I know to expect the worst out of everything and everyone. “What happens if we fail, Maven?”
His breath rattles in his chest as he inhales, fighting to remain calm. “Then we’ll be traitors, both of us. Tried for treason, convicted—and killed.”
During my next lesson with Julian, I can’t concentrate. I can’t focus on anything but what’s coming. So much can go wrong and so much is at stake. My life, Kilorn’s, Maven’s—we’re all putting our necks on the line for this.
“It’s really not my business, but,” Julian begins, his voice startling me, “you seem, well, very attached to Prince Maven.”
I almost laugh in relief, but I can’t help but feel stung at the same time. Maven’s the last person I should be wary of in this pit of snakes. Just the suggestion makes me bristle. “I am engaged to him,” I reply, trying my best not to snap.
But instead of letting it drop, Julian leans forward. His placid demeanor usually soothes me, but today it’s nothing but frustrating. “I’m just trying to help you. Maven is his mother’s son.”
This time I really do snap. “You don’t know a thing about him.” Maven’s my friend. Maven’s risking more than me. “Judging him by his parents is like judging me for my blood. Just because you hate the king and queen doesn’t mean you can hate him too.”
Julian stares at me, his gaze level and full of fire. When he speaks, his voice sounds more like a growl. “I hate the king because he couldn’t save my sister, because he replaced her with that viper. I hate the queen because she ruined Sara Skonos, because she took the girl I loved and broke her apart. Because she cut Sara’s tongue out.” And then lower, a lament, “She had such a beautiful voice.”
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